


Campaign Volunteers

by selfreliantscientist



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: "Hot" has two meanings, Either a three-way or a seven-way depending on how you look at it, Firebreathing, Hot mammal-on-reptile action, M/M, Mayoral campaign, What with the firebreathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:37:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfreliantscientist/pseuds/selfreliantscientist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil and Carlos agree that Hiram is an attractive and compelling individual. To get to know him better, they offer to do some volunteer work for his mayoral campaign.</p>
<p>It goes better than anyone could have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Campaign Volunteers

**Author's Note:**

> A year ago today, I posted my first story on Archive of Our Own. It was called [Shared Fantasies](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1007739), and it was about Cecil and Carlos both having a thing for Hiram McDaniels.
> 
> This story is kind of a follow-up to that one, but you can read it without having read the other one and you shouldn't miss anything. The two might not even be totally consistent with one another; I didn't re-read the old story while writing this one.

Mayoral campaigns were _complicated._ An awful lot of money and time went into each one, and the candidates had to stay cognizant of relevant political issues _and_ their opponents’ takes on those issues. And there were so many _rules_ regarding who could run for mayor and what they had to do and what _other_ people were allowed to do for them.

Cecil had gotten in trouble with Station Management almost immediately after the race began. He hadn’t _explicitly_ endorsed Hiram McDaniels, but he _had_ said something about him being the clear leading candidate, and that had been enough for a warning. Now he had to be careful not to say anything about the race unless he was explicitly reporting facts.

Station Management had helpfully provided a list of guidelines regarding unacceptable behaviors. They hadn’t included any content regarding _acceptable_ behaviors, but that’s where Carlos stepped in. As a scientist, Carlos understood that through the process of elimination, anything that _wasn’t_ included on the list of unacceptable behaviors must, logically, be acceptable.

And while Cecil wasn’t permitted to express any sort of preference for a candidate while acting in his capacity as the Voice of Night Vale, as a citizen he had every right to support the political candidate of his choice.

“You can donate money, as long as it’s anonymous, and you should probably avoid putting signs in our front yard or anything like that, but you could definitely volunteer to lick envelopes or something like that. What you do on your own time isn’t any of Station Management’s business,” Carlos explained.

“So, if I understand correctly,” Cecil said, “Then I’m not explicitly forbidden from having any sort of personal relationship with a mayoral candidate?”

“Cecil!” Carlos chided, feigning indignation. “You’re harboring fantasies about a particular reptile again. Am I not boyfriend enough for you?”

“Quite the contrary, my dear Carlos. I simply feel that enlisting some assistance may help me to guarantee _your_ satisfaction.”

“Five heads is an awful lot of assistance.”

Cecil grinned. “And in these fantasies, you are awfully satisfied.” He wrapped his arms around Carlos, disrupting the scientist’s note-taking. “Why don’t you put down that non-pen and we’ll give Hiram a call right now?”

“I’m really not convinced he’ll be interested,” said Carlos.

“We won’t ask him for a three-way right off the bat!” Cecil replied. “Or a… seven-way? I’m not sure if we’d go by headcount or bodycount. But I was thinking we could just volunteer to lick envelopes. Or something like that.”

\---

Hiram, as it turned out, did not require any assistance with licking envelopes. (“Besides,” Carlos commented afterwards, “It’s not like two more tongues would have made much of a difference.”)

“But where I could use assistance is in creating printed campaign material,” Hiram explained over the phone. “You see-”

“It’s all an issue of scale! The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home has access to the printer in every single Night Vale domicile, whereas Marcus Vansten can use his billions of dollars to purchase-”

“Give back the phone, Blue Head, I don’t think Mr. Palmer needs a detailed analysis of our predicament.” Hiram cleared one of his throats. “You still there?”

“I am,” confirmed Cecil.

“Now, there’s a file up on my campaign blog for people who want to print up leaflets at home, to hand to their neighbors or tape onto their faces or, you know, whatever they feel like doing,” said Hiram.

“Yep,” said Cecil. “I’m there now.”

“Okay, so if you can print out, say, five hundred pages’ worth -- they’re three to a page, so that’d make-”

“One and a half thousand!”

“That’s right, Green Head. So if I had fifteen hundred of those leaflets cut out for me, then I could fly over the town dropping them all over the place like a… a benevolent and harmless version of the esteemed head of our school board. Do you think you could do that?”

“For you, Mr. McDaniels, I certainly could.”

As it turned out, Cecil only got through printing ten sheets before his printer caught fire. Carrying the smoldering remains of that first attempt, he changed locations to finish the job at Carlos’ lab. He swore he wouldn’t interrupt the important science Carlos was doing, but Carlos had a hard time ignoring his presence.

“I’m really not supposed to use lab equipment for personal projects, Cecil,” Carlos complained.

“This isn’t personal,” said Cecil, “This is political.”

“It’s still outside the purview of this lab. If the other scientists find out I’m misusing our equipment…”

“You’re the head of the team, Carlos. What would they do?”

“Best-case scenario?” Said Carlos, “They’d make me buy a new one with my own money when this one needs to be replaced. But if they’re feeling vindictive, they could probably make a case for corruption and have me deported from Night Vale.”

“Dave would never do that to you.”

“Don’t act like you know Dave better than I do!” Carlos shouted.

Cecil was taken aback by the force of Carlos’ reaction. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Trying to print up leaflets for Hiram McDaniels at home was a stupid thing to do! The Faceless Old Woman _lives in our home_. Of course she was going to sabotage our efforts to support her opponent. We should have realized that. _I_ should have realized that. And now our printer’s ruined and I’m forced to use the lab one and if Rachelle catches us printing these I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Carlos. Come here.” Cecil gathered Carlos into his arms, stroking his hair in reassurance. “I understand. I should never have tried to start this at home.” Carlos buried his face in Cecil’s neck. “We’ll get everything out of here before morning. Rachelle will never find _anything_ she can use to make fun of you,” Cecil assured him.

“You’d better not leave anything,” said Carlos.

“I won’t,” said Cecil, ignoring the implication that Carlos was abdicating all responsibility for cleaning up when they were done.

Carlos grumbled. “I really hope this is worth it.”

“Oh, it should be. Just think of how grateful Hiram will be for all our work. I bet he’ll break into a speech about civic duty.”

“I do like listening to Hiram’s speeches,” Carlos admitted.

By the time they’d printed all 500 pages, the sun was just beginning to rise, though according to Cecil’s watch it was barely 3:30 in the morning. They left the leaflets in the trunk of Carlos’ car when they got home for a precious few hours of sleep. The Faceless Old Woman had switched their shirt drawers, but wasn’t getting up to any more than her usual level of mischief, so was probably unaware of their actions in support of her opponent.

The next night found them in the radio station, long after the last intern had fled to the temporary safety of home for the night.

“It’s only fair,” Carlos had said, “For us to both misuse work equipment.”

Each sheet of paper needed to be cut in two places, for a total of 1000 cuts necessary to separate every leaflet. After Cecil had painstakingly cut 24 sheets of paper into 72 leaflets, though, Carlos thought of stacking multiple sheets together and slicing them at once. The paper cutter could handle 10 at a time pretty easily, so they went from over 900 cuts left to fewer than 100.

While Cecil handled the cutting, Carlos kept the leaflets neatly arranged in stacks that went into neatly arranged boxes. He noticed a slight red stain on some of the edges, and asked Cecil about it.

“Intern Wallace,” Cecil explained, straightening a stack of leaflets to ready them for cutting. “He lacked pain receptors, so he didn’t realize the thing blocking the blade was his own hand until he’d already cut through it. I’ve asked other interns to clean it, but for some reason they’re scared of the thing.”

“Can’t imagine why,” said Carlos, taking a new stack of leaflets from Cecil and carefully fitting it into a box.

About halfway through they switched places, Cecil organizing the leaflets while Carlos manned the paper cutter. He kept a wary eye on the spot that appeared to have been stained by Intern Wallace. Though Carlos _did_ have pain receptors, so wouldn’t be likely to cut through his hand without noticing, he was all too aware of the reaction time for the human nervous system compared to the amount of pressure required to slice off a finger, and according to his calculations, caution was advisable. He was pleased when, at last, he cleaved the last stack of leaflets in twain, and all of his skin was still intact.

As they put the boxes in the car, Cecil asked, “Do you think we should take these over to Hiram tomorrow? Or, I guess it is tomorrow already, so, tonight?”

Carlos shook his head. “I think we should try to get some sleep. I don’t want to be stumbling over myself in exhaustion when we go to meet Hiram.”

The following night, the two of them cuddled together for an early rest.

“I told Hiram we’d drop off the pamphlets after my show tomorrow,” said Cecil, “And he asked if we could stay for a drink! If _that’s_ not a clear sexual overture, I don’t know what is.”

Carlos frowned. “Cecil, do you remember, before we were dating, I asked you to meet me for coffee so that we could exchange some information?”

“Ugh, how could I forget? When it turned out not to be a date I was devastated.”

“So do you see a parallel between that and Hiram wanting to have a drink with us?” Carlos asked.

“Carlos! Are you suggesting that I regularly misinterpret social cues?”

“No! Well, yes, but…” Carlos paused. “It’s not just that.”

“What more are you suggesting?” Asked Cecil, voice trembling.

Carlos sighed. “Cecil, you… I love you, but… well, I hate to say this, but, you can be kind of… off-putting.”

“Excuse me,” said Cecil in a huff, “I managed to charm the most attractive visitor Night Vale has ever seen. I think my seduction methods are perfectly competent.”

“It took me a year to stop being too scared to say yes.”

Cecil sat up, staring down at Carlos. “You were scared of me?”

“You came on too strong,” Carlos explained, sitting up next to Cecil. “You’re attractive, and you can be charming, but… the way you obsessed over me, the hints about getting dinner when we barely knew each other, the way you freaked out that time I got my haircut… it was too intense. I was really scared that you’d turn out to be a stalker maniac, and even though I thought you were cute, it just seemed like getting involved with you would be too dangerous.”

“What changed your mind?”

Carlos shrugged. “I got to know you. And, I had a first-hand encounter with real danger.” He held up a hand to touch his chest, where the tiny weapons of the underground city had left permanent scars. “After that, hypothetical dangers didn’t seem so scary anymore.”

“Oh, Carlos,” said Cecil, pulling his boyfriend into a hug.

“Hey, it’s okay now,” Carlos said. “I’m just thinking, it’d be great if you could hold yourself back when we see Hiram tomorrow. I don’t want to scare him off.”

Cecil’s face fell. “Okay,” he said. “It’s just… I have this whole fantasy, where we meet Hiram and I make a suggestive remark and then he makes a _more_ suggestive remark and then we each start kissing different heads and I think I’d have to draw some diagrams to explain the really good parts…”

“I know, Cecil. I have the same fantasy. Well, maybe not _exactly_ the same; we’d have to compare diagrams, but I also am interested in getting closer to Hiram. I just… don’t think direct come-ons are the best way to do it. We have to be subtle. Show some tact.”

“And you don’t think I know how to be subtle.”

“I think… it’s challenging for you to be subtle when you’re very enthusiastic about something.” Carlos rubbed Cecil’s back reassuringly. “So just stick to light conversation, okay? No flirting unless Hiram _explicitly_ flirts with us first. I’ll tap your leg with my foot if I think you have the go-ahead.”

“Okay,” said Cecil resignedly, “I won’t flirt unless you give the go-ahead. _But_ , if I agree to that, _you_ have to agree that you _will_ flirt. I get that you don’t want to miss out because I scared Hiram off, but _I_ don’t want to miss out just because everyone’s too scared to make the first move.”

Carlos nodded. “That’s… fair, I guess,” he said. “I promise that I will say at least one flirtatious thing to Hiram tomorrow.”

“That’s all I ask,” said Cecil, lying back down and snuggling against Carlos’ side once more.

\---

“I want to thank both of you for all your hard work,” said Hiram’s gold head, as Carlos and Cecil delivered their boxes of leaflets into his massive claws.

“It is greatly appreciated!” His purple head chimed in. “Such actions can make all of the difference in the world!”

“Well put, Purple Head. Now, why don’t you boys come on inside and make yourselves at home.”

“Marvel at the opulence of my interior decorating, puny humans! Never have you beheld such tastefully arranged splendor as you are about to witness!”

Carlos and Cecil shared a glance, doubting that any cave, even one belonging to such a handsome and dynamic dragon, could accurately be described as “opulent.”

Hiram’s blue head saw fit to disagree with the green one on this point as well. “Statistically speaking, Mr. Vansten’s homestead is likely very expensively decorated, and if he had the forethought to hire an interior designer of worth then the budget would allow for a level of grandeur far exceeding that of our own efforts. And while we have no evidence that either of our guests has ever entered the Vansten estate, it’s not reasonable to assume that Messrs Palmer have never done so.”

Cecil and Carlos followed Hiram into the cave while the green head began to rant about Marcus Vansten’s questionable taste in furnishings.

“Actually,” Carlos interrupted, “It’s not ‘Messrs Palmer.’ There’s just the one Mr. Palmer. We have different last names.”

The blue and green heads continued their argument, but the gray head looked back to address the guests. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s hard to keep track of human relationships.”

“Were we incorrect in assuming that the two of you are romantically involved?” Asked Hiram’s purple head. The green head was busy shouting out the blue head, but the gold head glanced back, clearly interested in the humans’ response.

“No, that’s correct,” said Cecil. “We are a couple. But we haven’t gotten married, which is when two people would typically take the same name. And sometimes even people who are married still have different last names." 

“Now, let’s not pry into Carlos and Cecil’s personal lives,” said Hiram’s gold head. His tone made the blue and green heads stop bickering. Addressing the humans, he continued, “You two are my guests, and while you’re in my home I want you to feel completely comfortable.” As Hiram finished speaking, they rounded a bend and emerged into a cavern, huge and draped in finery.

Rugs covered the stone floor, curtains hung from outcroppings, and scattered around the area were pillows, cushions, and even a sofa. Though the earth’s insulation had made the journey inward progressively cooler, a roaring fire kept the cavern comfortably warm. Hiram hadn’t organized his home with human comfort in mind, but had clearly made a few concessions to the possibility of mammalian guests. And besides, the array of colors and patterns with which he’d decorated was absolutely stunning.

“Sit anywhere,” said the gold head as Hiram dashed behind a curtain and retrieved a dusty old bottle and four glasses. Cecil and Carlos settled onto the sofa, near enough to the fire to feel its heat, but far enough to avoid being burned. “I hope you like this. It’s not the best in my store, but I have to save something for election day, right?”

“I imagine so, yes,” said Cecil, accepting a glass of deep red wine. Beside him, Carlos took a second.

Hiram settled onto the elegantly woven rug just between the sofa and the fire, holding a glass in each of his front claws. He clinked one against Carlos’ glass and the other against Cecil’s, while his green head cried, “A toast to the redemption of your pitiful human government!”

“To redemption,” said Cecil emphatically, before taking a long sip.

Carlos hesitated, but with Hiram’s ten eyes boring into him, he repeated “Redemption,” and drank. “Oh, wow, that’s… I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

Cecil nodded, tipping his glass back as he emptied it. “If this isn’t your best, I’d love to taste what you’re saving for election day,” he said when he was through.

“I’d like to taste any of it at all,” said Hiram’s gray head.

While two glasses of wine would be more than enough for most people, Hiram had wound up in a battle amongst himself. His gold and purple heads were reasonably amicable in sharing the glass in his right claw, but the green and blue heads kept vying for position to drink from the left glass, and the grey head miserably attempted to get close enough to catch a drop from either.

“Here,” said Carlos, holding out his glass while reaching out with his other hand to touch the cheek of Hiram’s gray head. “You can have some of mine.”

“Aw, thank you, Carlos. It takes a true spirit of self-sacrifice to give up your own happiness for someone like me.”

Before Carlos could protest, Hiram’s gold head chimed in. “That’s just the kind of guy Carlos is. Cecil too. They’re good people.”

Hiram put down the (now empty) glasses he’d been holding, while his gray head drained what remained of Carlos’.

“It is an honor to have two such fine gentlemen in my home!” Announced Hiram’s purple head.

His blue head went on. “Indeed, there are numerous traditional honors, sacraments, and sacrifices that might have involved such a meeting in a dragon’s homeground, my favorite of which involved-”

“What I’m trying to get at,” Hiram’s gold head interrupted, “Is that hosting the two of you is my pleasure, and if there is any way that I may be of service, anything _at all_ that I can do for you, all you have to do is ask.”

Cecil kicked at Carlos’ leg, an innocent-looking gesture, but when Carlos faced him, Cecil’s glare sent a clear message. If Carlos didn’t start flirting with Hiram soon, Cecil would.

“Um, actually,” Carlos said, gaining the attention of twelve eyes staring at him, “Would it be okay if I asked you some… personal questions? For science,” he quickly added, earning him another kick from Cecil. This time Carlos glared back at him.

“To help the scientific community?” Said Hiram’s blue head.

“Of course. Just ask away,” said the gold head.

“I’m very into science these days,” added the purple head, earning a surprised look from Cecil.

“Right. Well. Like I said, it’s very personal,” said Carlos. “I, um, specifically, was wondering if you could tell me about the particulars of dragon reproduction. Is it… would you say the biological aspects are similar to those of other reptiles, or…” Carlos trained off as Hiram scratched the chin of his gold head with his claw. The gray head, which had been licking the remnants of wine out of Carlos’ glass, avoided eye contact and took cover under a wing.

“What an impertinent question! You pitiful runt of a creature!” Yelled Hiram’s green head. The gold head fixed it with a stare, though, after which it quieted down.

Cecil kept looking at each of Hiram’s heads in turn, then at Carlos. He was starting to realize just how ill-suited his boyfriend was to romantic overtures.

Hiram’s gold head spoke. “Reptiles are a proud, mighty, and diverse group of creatures,” he said. “I dare say dragons possess many similarities to our snake and lizard cousins, though there are marked differences.”

“The existence of wings among dragonsis unique in the reptile class,” said his blue head.

“Yep, that’s of them,” the gold head acknowledged. “Also our fire-breathing. As for, uh, _reproduction_ , well, dragons are-”

“This is so embarrassing,” said the gray head, still hidden under a wing.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Gray Head. This is just biology. Carlos is a scientist; he knows all about this kind of thing.”

“Yes! Please, Carlos the scientist,” said Hiram’s purple head, “Tell me. Do you know anything about the animal known as the tuatara?”

“Well,” said Carlos, “I’ve heard of them, of course, but I am not a herpetologist, so I’m not really qualified to say anything more.”

“If you’re looking for a comparison to dragons, tuatara are better examples than, say, lizards,” said the gold head.

“Um,” said Cecil, “As the one person in the room who is neither a reptile nor a scientist, I’m kind of lost.”

Hiram’s blue head explained. “Whereas male lizards and snakes typically possess a pair of sexual organs known as hemipenes, dragons possess no such organs, and mate by means of cloacal contact.”

“What my blue head said is completely correct,” said Hiram’s gold head. “It’s true that dragons lack any real analogue to the mammalian penis.”

“If you don’t have a penis, then what do you have?” Asked Cecil.

Hiram paused. “Now, I know Carlos is interested in this subject for scientific reasons,” said his gold head. “But, Cecil, can I ask what’s the nature of _your_ interest?”

“Oh! Um, my interest is, I suppose, personal, rather than scientific.”

Scratching his head, Carlos admitted, “My own interest may in fact be of a personal nature. I’m sorry, I should have disclosed that information earlier.”

“It’s quite all right,” said Hiram’s gold head. “But, if you’re interested for personal reasons, would you maybe like me to show you, instead of telling you?”

Cecil and Carlos looked to each other for a moment before answering in unison, “Definitely.”

While Hiram’s gray head hesitantly emerged from its hiding place, his green head began shouting, “You will tremble before the awesome and terrible strength of my passion!”

His gold head jumped in. “Don’t let my green head scare you. I want to assure you boys that, though dragons are fearsome and mighty creatures, we are kind and gentle lovers.”

While his gold head had been speaking, his blue head had been coming closer and closer to Cecil, until finally Cecil leaned just slightly forward and touched Hiram’s blue lips with his own. A moment later, a forked tongue was darting in and out of Cecil’s mouth, and Hiram’s green head had reached over and begun to lick Cecil’s neck.

Carlos, meanwhile, had risen from the sofa and placed a hand on Hiram’s purple neck. “Hiram?” He asked. “Can I see your cloaca?”

“Of course!” Replied Hiram’s purple head.

The dragon rolled onto his side, reaching up with a claw to hold Cecil steady while two of his heads continued to kiss him. With the other claw, he reached down to indicate a slit between two of the scales low on his belly. Carlos held out a hand, then retracted it, asking, “May I?”

“Yes! Yes, please!” Cried Hiram’s purple head.

His gold head nodded, saying, “Go right ahead.”

Carlos brushed the opening with his fingertips, causing Hiram to squirm. “Sorry,” said Carlos, “Did I… Was that…”

“It’s okay!” Said Hiram’s gold head. “Just tickles.”

“Oh. Should I be firmer?” Carlos applied greater pressure when he touched the opening again. As his fingers slid inside, Hiram’s free necks stretched out to their full lengths. Cecil, and several of Hiram’s heads, collectively moaned. Smiling, Carlos leaned down and kissed the cloaca’s edge, noting the smooth texture of Hiram’s scales. Exploring with his tongue, he found that the scales didn’t have much particular taste, but if he dipped just a little inward, he could taste dark and warmth and minerals.

Hiram adjusted his position, rolling closer to lying on his back, wings folded as close to being out of the way as he could get them. This close to the fire, the cavern was particularly warm, and clothes were starting to feel uncomfortable. As Carlos removed his labcoat, Cecil caught his eye and grinned. At that moment Hiram’s green and blue heads were nuzzling either side of Cecil’s neck. “Would it be okay if we took our clothes off?” Asked Cecil.

“Absolutely!” Declared Hiram’s green head. “Clothing is a bizarre and confounding artifact of human civilization! I cannot make sense of it.”

“Clothing has had numerous applications and advantages throughout human development,” Hiram’s blue head started explaining. “Providing insulation for their warm-blooded bodies allowed them to survive in colder climates, and the complexity and style of clothing provides numerous social cues that allow for nonverbal communication regarding social stature, profession, and cultural alignments.”

The green head opened its mouth to argue, but was distracted as Cecil and Carlos simultaneously pulled their shirts off. All five of Hiram’s heads were staring at the two men, who in turn stared at one another. Carlos laughed and reached down to unfasten his pants. When Cecil attempted to to the same, he found Hiram’s green head biting at the fabric.

“Hey!” Said Cecil. “I need these pants for work. Don’t tear them.”

The green head moved up until it was directly in Cecil’s face, and instructed, “Remove this impediment to your form at once, miserable human!”

As soon as Cecil had complied, Hiram’s green head was upon him, closing around his penis and licking it gently. Cecil felt only momentary nervousness at the sharp teeth in such close proximity to his vulnerable parts. As his gold head had declared, Hiram was gentle, carefully holding Cecil and bringing only pleasure through his actions.

The gold head now nudged the green one out of the way, saying, “Hey. Share.” Thus displaced, the green head insinuated itself between Cecil’s legs, flicking its tongue over his scrotum and perineum. While Hiram’s green and gold heads lavished attention to Cecil’s lower half, Hiram’s blue head once more kissed Cecil on the mouth.

Carlos had retrieved a bottle of lubricant from his labcoat pocket, and was now working with Hiram’s purple head to find the optimal position to reach Hiram’s cloaca with his penis. After many abortive attempts, they finally arrived at a solution, Carlos standing with one foot on the ground and one resting on Hiram’s leg. The purple head kissed him as he pressed forward and Hiram’s body welcomed him in.

Seeing all the other heads occupied, Hiram’s gray head began to mope. “You all have your fun. Not like anybody ever asks me to join.”

Cecil pulled away from the blue head, grabbed the gray head in both hands, and pulled it towards him. “Please,” he said, “Join.” He kissed Hiram’s gray head aggressively, holding it close against his face and running his tongue along the ridged roof of its mouth. The blue head nuzzled the gray head in approval, then moved on, reaching out with its long tongue to circle one of Cecil’s nipples.

As Carlos began to thrust in earnest, he buried his face in the crook of Hiram’s thigh, the one attached to the leg he wasn’t currently using for leverage. Hiram’s purple head brushed its cheek against his hair and whispered praise and encouragements into his ear.

The green head broke away from Cecil with an earth-shattering groan, and began to speak. “You humans! You glorious humans! Never before have any of your kind affected me in this way! You…” The speech trailed off, and a moment later, just as Carlos was pushing himself deeper inside and the purple head was kissing his neck and Cecil stroked the blue head’s chin while his tongue slid against that of the gray head, the green head let forth with a great plume of fire.

Both Cecil and Carlos froze as the flames rose into the cavern above them and dissipated. Hiram’s gray head began to apologize, but Cecil silenced it by hissing, “Do that again.”

“I…” said the blue head, as Hiram collectively looked to Carlos for confirmation.

“Again, again,” Carlos agreed, nodding as he thrust enthusiastically into Hiram’s body, which just a moment before had been turned delightfully hot by the flame coursing through it.

While Hiram’s green head filled the space above them with flame, his blue, gray and gold heads descended once more onto cecil, licking and nuzzling him while he watched the fire-breathing green head in awe. Noticing the attention, the green head caught Cecil’s eye and winked.

That was it for Cecil, who immediately had three different heads vying for position to lick up his ejaculate. He hugged Hiram’s blue neck, pressing his cheek against it. “Oh, you magnificent dragon. Thank you,” he said, holding out a hand to stroke Hiram’s gray neck, and then the gold one. “Now, Carlos is hard at work, but what can I do to help you come?”

Hiram’s gold head chuckled. “Unlike you humans, I have a basic degree of self-control,” it said. “As long as we’re talking about orgasms, that is. Fire-breathing is more difficult. But no, I decide when to come. I’m just… _ah_ ,” the gold head broke off, all of the heads shuddering as one at the sensation that Carlos was causing. “At this point I’m just waiting for Carlos,” the gold head concluded.

Cecil nodded, and moved closer to Carlos and the other end of Hiram’s body. Hiram’s purple head was licking Carlos’ ear right then, and now Hiram’s other heads began to join in, all aside from the green head, which was still occupied with breathing fire.

While Hiram licked and nuzzled and kissed Carlos, Cecil held his hand. “Cecil,” said Carlos, “You would not believe how amazing this feels.”

Cecil kissed the hand he held, and said, “You deserve to feel this amazing all the time, my lovely Carlos.”

Carlos smiled, and then rested his forehead against Hiram as he came. Scarcely a moment later, so did Hiram.

The other four heads faced upward with the green one, releasing so much fire that the world around them was no longer visible. For a moment, everything was bright light, and though the flame immediately began to dissipate, Cecil and Carlos were both temporarily blinded.

Carlos felt, rather than saw, Hiram’s reproductive fluid flowing out around his penis, mixing with his own semen, just shy of hot enough to burn. “Oh god,” he said, not wanting to move. “This is incredible. 

“An appropriate response,” acknowledged Hiram’s green head.

“I hope that the experience was of sufficient scientific interest to you,” said the purple head.

“ _Everything_ about you is of sufficient scientific interest to me, Hiram,” said Carlos.

“I believe that such a statement is the highest compliment Carlos is capable of giving,” said the blue head.

“Indeed,” agreed Hiram’s gold head. “Thank you, boys. Feel free to lend a hand with my campaign again, any time you like.”

\---

As they left Hiram’s cave, Cecil asked Carlos a question.

“When he said we could lend a hand with his campaign any time, do you think he meant literally helping with his campaign, or was that a euphemism for-”

“Steve!” Said Carlos, waving to Cecil’s brother-in-law. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“Oh, I think it’s important to share my discoveries with local politicians. Especially if I can get to them before the hooded figures do, and they become lost to the mortal world. I figured I’d see if Hiram has any time to listen to me.”

“Hiram is a very important person, Steve,” said Cecil. “I don’t think he has any time to spare for people like you.”

“Hey, wait. What were you two doing out here?” Asked Steve.

“That’s none of your business,” said Cecil, entirely too quickly to sound casual.

“Aw, well if you won’t tell me, maybe I should just ask Hiram.”

Cecil grabbed Steve by the shoulder and steered him away from the cave. “Hiram is busy trying to become mayor of Night Vale. He doesn’t have time for questions from ordinary citizens.”

“Oh, I suppose you’re right,” said Steve. Then, “Hey! Isn’t there a mayoral debate next week? You played that ad asking people to call in with questions. If I call in and ask Hiram what you were doing here, he’ll have to tell me!”

“No!” Said Cecil, fixing Steve with a death glare. “You will not sully my radio show with your bizarre and unacceptable conspiracy-mongering.”

“Transparency of government and media, Cecil! That’s what it’s all about. Okay, you two have a good day!”

Steve jauntily left them, while Cecil fumed and Carlos put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” said Carlos, “Don’t worry about it. It’s your show. If he calls in, you have every right to cut him off.”

When they arrived home, they found it full of smoke. Every single electrical appliance they owned seemed to have been set on fire. “Um, Cecil?” Said Carlos.

“Yes, Carlos?”

“I just realized… The Faceless Old Woman must live in Hiram’s home, too.”

“Yes. I suppose she does.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really like the idea that, when Steve calls with a question for Hiram during The Debate and Cecil shuts him down, it's because Cecil's worried about his illicit tryst with Hiram being publicly revealed.


End file.
